


Stay Quiet

by Dragonpie



Category: The Mandalorian (LadyIrina AU), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non Explicit Sex, Pretend marriage, Semi-Public Sex, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Wall Sex, any excuse to make the boys fuck, big dick dyn, breaking past behaviors, cheap excuse for a plot, conditioned silence, im going to tag that even if it's not fully accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonpie/pseuds/Dragonpie
Summary: Corin had always considered himself a quiet person - not shy by any means; but a good solider knows when to hold his tongue.Staying quiet isn't always the best way to get what you want.(Let's be real, we all know why we're here and it isn't for the plot.)
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 140





	Stay Quiet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).



> This is not what a i set out to write. at a certain point i have to accept that when i set out to write something, it will almost always turn out different than what i wanted. i can accept that as long as people still find enjoyment in what i create.
> 
> AS ALWAYS: if you are reading this within 12 hours of it being posted expect to see some dramatic typos. i only edit once before posting and don't edit again until after.

It had been a long day, planet bound and settled in a charming farm village. The community had accepted them gratefully after an earlier run-in with raiders – the attack had been easily driven off but the villagers feared they were still vulnerable. They’d offered a place to stay, no questions asked, in exchange for protection.

Corin had spent the better part of an evening settled around a roaring fire, sharing in the local history and tall tales told with the aid of alcohol. The villagers had put together a celebration in honor of their new hope, and Corin sat through the festivities, in the Mandalorian’s absence – filling in when it seemed he would rather be by himself; possibly to plan for their inevitable confrontation with forest raiders. More than likely not wanting to become attached to any of the people they were there to protect.

Corin didn’t have the same problems. He was far from sociable and rarely if ever, spoke up. A good soldier was one who listened – one who knew how to hold his tongue. People were often drawn away by his attentions, and the people of this village were certainly no different. They quickly grew tired of Corin’s polite smiles and persistent nodding. Even when directly asked for an opinion, Corin barely spoke two words before retreating into comfortable silence.

There seemed to be a collective relief when the child toddled over, a large yawn taking over his face. He was exhausted after a day of chasing the wildlife, and being fawned over by the local children – it didn’t take him long to fall asleep in Corin’s arms.

Corin rose to his feet shortly after the child began snoring against his neck. the action drew attention from all those who had lost interest in him already.

“if you’ll excuse me, I must –”

“No please, go.”

Corin’s exit was interrupted by the lovely tril of the woman who had first invited them to stay. He remembered her by the tenderness of her smile, and the twinkle in her eyes when showing the trio to their shared room. He often found it difficult to remember names, but Corin never forgot a face.

He offered yet another polite smile as he exited the area, once or twice nearly stumbling over his own feet. He’d come away from their earlier skirmish with a noticeable limp, but he was pushing through it.

Several villagers made half-hearted attempts to help, but Corin brushed them off. He was strong enough to handle this on his own – as all good soldiers must.

The trek towards their humble lodgings was a mission on it’s own. Corin took it slow, letting the motion rock the child further into sleep. The farmlands were uneven, with rocky paths leading from one place to another. In most places the grass was too long to cut across, and so Corin endured.

They’d been given a small room, an unused barn to sleep in. it was a humble space; dirty floors, straw strewn about – holes worn through the roof where starlight could seep in.

Corin had almost objected when he’d seen the small bed squished against the wall. He wasn’t opposed to sharing – having done it before as a soldier – but subjecting the Mandalorian to it was out of the question. As impolite as it would have been, Corin thought it was for the good of their mission for him to state his opinion – but the Mandalorian had been too quick to accept; thanking the villagers for their hospitality.

“They think we’re married,” he had said, as casual as if commenting on the stars, “it would be best not to break our cover.”

And it wasn’t as though Corin were offended on a personal level. He quite enjoyed the thought of sharing a bed – and this one was _small;_ unlikely to leave even an inch of space between them. If the only way for them both to fit was for the Mandalorian to wrap Corin up in his strong arms – hold him tight against his broad chest, so close Corin would feel the gentle beat of his heart, against his back – well that was just how it had to be.

Truth be told, Corin would take what he could get while it was on offer. He had no time for shame or remorse – useless in a soldiers arsenal.

He lowered the child into his makeshift cot, and lingered over him as he settled in. Corin was reluctant to leave the child unattended, but it was late and the Mandalorian still hadn’t come back – having left shortly after accepting their room.

With a gentle motion, Corin tucked the child in; pulling the sparse blanket over his slight shoulders and watching him burrow further against the covers. He spared a final glance around the empty barn before heading out.

Despite being almost midnight the village was still alight with celebration. Several bouts of singing had broken out, with many of the younger adults joining in and dancing.

Corin avoided the brunt of it by weaving through quieter places where only sleeping animals or quiet people searching for hidden moments filled the dirt streets. He couldn’t fathom trying to navigate the social nightmare of making eye contact with celebratory drunks and being reluctantly drawn into their circle with the power of insistence and pressure. Corin would rather avoid it completely – they didn’t need him around.

He found the Mandalorian on the other side of the village, leant against the wall of a quiet stable. In this part of the village no one else wandered past, but the soft glow of the fire could still be seen in the sky, and the chants of rowdyt villagers could still be heard.

The Mandalorian turned his head slightly when Corin appeared in his peripheral vision. He nodded his head in lieu of hello.

“Just put the child to bed,” Corin said, “thought I’d come and check on you – it’s been a long day; you need your rest.”

The Mandalorian let out a sigh, head dipping slightly as he took in Corin’s stance – favouring the leg that didn’t hurt to stand on.

“You’re still hurt from earlier,” his words a statement, not a question.

Corin hopped forward, wearing a forced smile, in an attempt to brush off the pain.

“It’s not so bad – really,” as he spoke Corin twisted his sore ankle on the uneven ground. He fell forward with a yelp – cheeks heating over his own incompetence – only to be caught between the Mandalorian’s strong hands.

“You need to slow down,” the words bitten out; the undercurrent of anger chilled Corin down to the bone. Still, he thrilled at the feeling of strong hands clasping his hips – settling comfortably, even after he was steady. “if it was this bad, you should have told me.”

And this was where Corin had trouble understanding. He had been travelling with this family for over a month and still hadn’t learned the concept of speaking up. It was something the Mandalorian encouraged, supposedly to avoid further injury or misunderstanding. Corin just couldn’t break the habit of holding his tongue.

Feeling brave Corin leaned forward. He didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath from the Mandalorian, when he lifted his arms to wrap around broad shoulders. Corin leaned his head forward, resting it against the cool metal of the helmet, and whispered;

“I thought I could handle it – guess I was wrong.” His tone was apologetic even if admitting weakness burned his tongue. He allowed himself to melt into the touch; feeling oddly at peace. Oddly warm and safe – better than he’d felt in long while.

He would take all that he could get – even if it meant stealing. Surely he wasn’t above that.

The air was cold around them, sending a shiver through Corin’s body. He felt warmth beneath his skin, radiating from the Mandalorian’s strong fingers and subconsciously he leaned in.

“Corin,” his name was spoken so softly the sound may as well have wafted away on the wind.

For a bare second those fingers tightened against his hips – pulling closer – before his entire body was tensing, twisting to pull away.

“ _sorry!”_ Corin was quick to barek out an apology at the first sign of trouble. He tried to pull away but his ankle wasn’t prepared to take his weight and he just about collapsed under the pressure.

Again the Mandalorian was quick to catch him, fingers closing tight around Corin’s forearm and pulling him up – crowding him against the wall to keep him standing.

“You’re in no state to walk.”

Corin almost rolled his eyes, annoyed at his body for being weak. He didn’t notice the arm now wrapped around his waist, holding him up – almost didn’t notice the body pressed warm against his, and the _obvious_ reason for the Mandalorian’s discomfort.

“You could always carry me,” he suggested – words barely leaving his mouth before he wanted to take them back _flirting was not part of the plan._ But Corin was getting a little hot under the collar at even the smallest touch. He couldn’t help but lift his hips away from the wall to press himself closer to the Mandalorian – just to be sure he was feeling what he was feeling.

The Mandalorian let out a stifled groan, the sound certainly unintentional. And yes, pressed surely against Corin’s hip was the unmistakable outline of the Mandalorian’s growing erection. The feel of it sent a thrill down Corin’s spine. Surely he had to be absolutely _starving_ for touch, if just this had gotten him hard.

“Well,” the Mandalorian’s voice came out rough; almost a growl. He cleared his throat and tried again; “we _are_ supposed to be married –”

Perhaps Corin was a little touch starved too, and really he had no right to be. This family had welcomed him in with open arms and hadn’t been shy with their affections – even the Mandalorian not shying away from casual touches here and there – and yet he still wanted more. It might have been funny, how quick Corin was to reach for the Mandalorian’s pants, fingers scrambling to undo the ties before either of them could change their minds. It might have been funny if he wasn’t so hungry for it.

He leaned heavy against the wall, unable to support his weight, the pull of his hands dragging the Mandalorian closer as he fell back. His breath caught in his throat when the Mandalorian was in his space, crowding him further against the wall until their bodies were pressed together tight. Corin thrilled at the feel of a strong hand on his hip, fingers digging in almost too hard. As Corin finally managed to undo the Mandalorian’s pants, he felt himself almost lifted – that strong hand shifting to his thigh and lifting, prompting Corin to wrap his injured leg around the Mandalorian’s hip; essentially trapping him.

The Mandalorian leaned forward, resting his head against Corin’s his voice was barely there when he spoke to explain.

“To take the pressure of.”

And his ankle certainly felt a lot better like this; or maybe he was just distracted as his fingers finally met the Mandalorian’s hard cock.

If this was a mistake he didn’t want to hear about it in the morning. His solder’s silence wouldn’t allow him to ask for permission.

He wrapped his fingers around the hot flesh and dragged up in a slow stroke. The sound he earned for his efforts burned right through him – setting him aflame at the tips of his fingers and the bottoms of his toes. The Mandalorian’s hips jerked forward, a silent plea to speed up, but Corin took his time. He kept his grip tight – fingers on one hand barely enough to close around the thickest part and just that thought had his mouth watering. He kept his body still as he continued to stroke the Mandalorian coaxing choked off sounds and groans of pure frustration. The bitten off attempts at his name were music to Corin’s ear, sending a thrill right through him every time.

 _“Corin,”_ his name spoken forcefully, despite the shudder he earned as his thumb swiped over the dripping tip, digging into the head just _so._ _“Fuck –_ don’t tease we don’t have time.”

And like a good soldier Corin was prepared to sink to his knees. His own stomach was a roaring flame, desire burning him up from the inside. His cock was trapped hard inside his pants and it took every effort not to acknowledge his own need.

Of course Corin wanted it – he wanted that strong touch all over him; strong hands in his hair pulling just on the right side of painful, leaving bruises against his hips, thick fingers pushing inside of him –

Corin wanted all of it; the intensity of it too much. He couldn’t move his leg where it was still being held. He couldn’t fall to the ground in a desperate heat to bring them both off with the Mandalorian’s cock down his throat. He continued on instead with slow strokes, a pace designed for madness more than lust. Leaned his head against the Mandalorian’s shoulder, breathing hot puffs of air against covered skin.

 _“Corin,”_ his name a fresh warning.

The Mandalorian pushed his hips forward into Corin’s touch, the movement harsh and almost unintentional. He gripped Corin’s wrist and tugged his hand away, holding it captive against the wall.

“You’re too much,” he said, voice coming out ragged, “I didn’t expect –”

“Sorry.”

A heavy silence settled over them as Corin’s apology slipped out. The new tension threatened to ruin the moment when he wasn’t ready for it to be over. His hand almost followed when the Mandalorian released him -worried that this was t and was all he would ever get. Instead that same grip was shifting to Corin’s hair, pulling gently to ease Corin’s head back; forcing him to make eye contact with the visor

“Corin,” this time spoken with a new emotion; perhaps a hint of sadness – a hint of remorse. “if you don’t want to do this –”

Corin’s brown furrowed, confused.

I do!”

He shifted forward as it to prove it, pushing his hops forward to grind his clothed erection against the Mandalorian’s own exposed length. The action earned him a bitten off groan.

“Then tell me. Don’t keep it quiet.”

Corin didn’t understand and didn’t get a chance to try. He was being lifted – felt light as air as his good foot left the ground. A pleasant gasp escaped his mouth when he wrapped his good leg around the Mandalorian’s waist and was rewarded by the push of his hard length against Corin’s covered ass.

“If you want it – don’t hold your tongue.”

“Please –”

The fire was already burning through Corin, but even more so now with no space between them – no space to wedge a hand between their bodies and get a hand on himself. There was nothing more than clumsy friction against the Mandalorian’s armour, and the sharp tease of his thick cock ground against him,

“If we’re going to do this, I want to hear you,” the Mandalorian said gruffly, helmet resting heavy against Corin’s shoulder. Every shift of his body was like a spark against Corin’s skin, heat igniting his sense.

He didn’t have to worry about sounding stupid or saying the wrong thing. Words were too quick to leave his mind and only broken off syllables fell of his tongue with frequent success.

“Please, please,” he repeated, when the word formed easy in his mouth, with no way to ground himself Corin could only be held and used – the though melted through him and he thought he might just catch fire.

“That’s it – tell me you want it”

And Corin had never considered asking for what he wanted. Surely it made sense when he thought of it now, but he had never wanted to raise his voice and ask for a hard fuck. He’d never considered the effect of staying quiet – or the reward of speaking up,.

But he was a fast learner.

“I want it,” he gasped, embarrassingly close to the edge without being directly touched. And because has was scared he bit out, “please don’t stop, _don’t stop._ ”

If he’d been paying attention he might have noticed the effect his words had – the tightened grip on his ass sure to leave bruises come morning, the stifled groans, increasingly harsh thrusts against his body. Corin was overwhelmed with it all. He blamed the lack of touch and attention; the element that had been missing from his life before. He blamed the hunger of his body for his minds absence. Anything to excuse a flaw.

When he came it seemed to shock them both. his body tensed painfully against the wall; muscles wound tight as if trying to escape. The sharp cry that left his mouth could surely be heard over the road of distant celebrations, and Corin only wished he had a name to taste on the tip of his tongue as ecstasy poured through him.

Maybe next time – and if this was what speaking up would earn him there would certainly be a next time.

Corin was barely coming down form his high when he felt the Mandalorian tense against him, a near feral groan of his name hidden beneath his helmet as he made a mess against Corin’s back. The feel of it soaking through against his skin thrilled Corin almost as much as the too-tight grips against his hips, or the ragged breaths the Mandalorian was left with when it was over.

In the afterglow Corin was struck again with the urge to apologise. Instead he leaned in, rested his head against the helmet and said, _“thank you.”_

It was very rare for him to hear the Mandalorian laugh. The sound left a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“You read my mind,” words spoken around a huff of air. When Corin looked he could only see his own eyes staring back at him through the visor.

“I would have spoken up sooner – if I’d known –”

“There’s still time. “

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr if you want @softdramahoe  
> all i do is post memes and act extremely cursed  
> also this may or may not be a three part series so keep posted. i've marked this as complete for now because i don't know when or if i will continue it.


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